Can you hear me Cry?
by Stradivari
Summary: Most people have a little voice inside their head, a voice which speaks your fears. The voice that is not part of you, yet calls your name... Psychological: [Nominated for Best Concept]


CAN YOU HEAR ME

CRY?

_by_

-Stradivari-

He was in a white room. White at its most overwhelming, with only the faintest of shadows to indicate there were any walls to imprison whoever was in there at all. Otherwise, it could have gone on forever, bland, emotionless and unchanging. He had no idea how he had come to be in such a room; could vaguely remember a staircase…but whether he ascended or descended it, he could not recall.

Looking around him, he could find no door or any kind of entrance from which he had arrived. There were no markings, no matter how small, upon the walls, floor or ceiling. So completely was it white he could have sworn he was floating in space. But his feet were firmly in his shoes and they in turn were firmly on the ground.

He felt a gentle stir of unease within his chest. Funny how white was supposed to be the colour of peace, the symbol of holiness and innocence. It felt so menacing now, perhaps due to the stark contrast of his suit had given him this impression.

_Would you rather it be black?_

Artemis whirled around, eyes darting in search of the person who had spoken. It had been a quite voice…and feminine.

After a moment of scrutiny however, he had to admit, though however unlikely, the voice either came from the walls themselves or from some hidden speaker. Probably the latter.

He regained the little composure he had lost and spoke aloud I reply.

"Why, are you responsible for this variating décor?"

The voice seemed to pause and think. _I supposed I am…but really, there isn't any need for sarcasm._

Artemis raised an eyebrow. "No?"

_Of course not! We could start off as friends rather than enemies. After all, you've already got enough of those, hmm?_

It was rather frustrating, he found, to have nothing to look at when he spoke, other than some blank white walls. And that was no substitute. He'd rather have a conversation with a gun. He did not lift the sarcasm from his voice.

"Really? And pray tell, how am I supposed to make _friends _with someone I don't know? Who are you?"

Another pause. _You really don't trust me do you, Artemis?_

He resisted the temptation to roll his eyes. "Someone I can't even see? No, I don't think I do."

Silence. Artemis blinked a few times. Was it his imagination, or had the walls moved closer together?

Finally, the voice spoke, her tone tentative and rather reproachful.

_Why not?_

For a moment, Artemis was made speechless by the stupidity of this individual, the genuine innocence which the voice had sounded and the question itself. He directed his gaze at the nearest wall. Better than nothing.

"If you are playing dumb, Miss, I am not amused by your antics. Now please, show yourself."

_Don't give me that. Let's see **you** playing dumb. _

Artemis ignored the comment and flicked his gaze pointedly at his watch…which wasn't there. He frowned, briefly distracted. He always wore a watch…it was part of his daily attire. He couldn't have simply forgotten to put it on this morning….**morning**…

That jolted him. "What time is it?" he asked, veering off the subject.

Silence.

He was beginning to think whoever it was had left when they spoke. _Hmm? Time?_

"Yes," he said in a bored voice, "What _time _is it."

Another paused. _I don't know. Does it matter?_

"Of course it does-" he began impatiently but stopped when he felt a pain at his temples. It was so sharp and sudden, the room was temporarily lit with red as it criss-crossed his vision. He closed his eyes, seeking darkness like a drowning person seeks air. The voice spoke, very close to his ear.

_Does it hurt?_

His temples pulsed with a throb that he though should be ebbing.

"No, I'm fine." He replied as calmly as he could and reopened his eyes, glancing suspiciously around him. Truth be told, he rather though it was the speaker who had inflicted the pain. He focused his eyes to the wall in front of him and stopped.

A line of red was trickling down the white, leaving a faint scar on the wall. This was joined by another drop of red, then another, each heavier and fell faster than the last. Soon, there was a puddle at the foot of the wall. Artemis walked towards it, hesitated, then brushed a finger through the crimson liquid.

To his relief, it did not have the adhesive quality of blood. Yet, it was not as diluted as water, nor as free flowing. And it stained his fingers to the same colour that did not fade away. He looked at the wall again, which was now covered in scratches, some deeper than the rest. It was awash with the red substance that seemed to leak out of no where, having the remarkable density to cut the walls yet be neither acid nor metal. It made him slightly sick just to watch it gather at his feet. A section of red, made brighter still by its white surroundings.

Artemis took a few steps backwards, making a slight noise as if he didn't want to dirty his shoes. Of course, that wasn't true, though the voice wasn't to know that. He gestured at the scene.

"What is this?" he asked testily, turning to face the blank, untainted wall to his left. It was a moment before the voice answered and Artemis fancied he heard whoever it was give a small sigh.

_Haven't you figured it out yet?_

It was not so much patronizing as it was melancholy. "No. Dripping dye and lines on the walls-I have no idea what it means. A leak? New colour scheme? Perhaps you are going to paint this room red by flooding it?"

_You are so dramatic Artemis. Aren't you supposed to be a logical and subtle person? Honestly._

"I was being sarcastic actually." He replied.

_Of course you were._

"Who **are **you?"

_Who do you think I am?_

"A lunatic?"

_Ha, ha, very funny. You hurt my feelings you know._

This time, Artemis did roll his eyes. Whoever it was must think him a five year old. "Do you honestly think I care?" he said loftily.

_No, not really. But I thought you might like to know. _

"Well, thank you for your kind **thoughts** but I would not like to know."

_Well, you do now, don't you?_

Artemis was finding this conversation rather annoying. "Look…Miss. If you have a point, get to it. Otherwise, please show me the appropriate exit."

_I do have a point. But you have to get to it._

Artemis brushed a strand of hair out of his eyes. "Oh really?"

_Yes Artemis, really, really._

He glared at the wall because there was nothing else to glare at. "You seem to know my name. Now it's your turn."

Glancing to his right, he noted that the red liquid had stopped dripping-though the scratches were still there. It was a long minute before whoever it was replied.

_I don't have a name…I think._

He frowned. "You think?"

_I think…at least I think I do. You really don't understand do you?_

What a strange hypocrite. "Well, if I knew what I was supposed to understand…"

_Its right there._

This was getting irritating. "**What** is **where**? I really don't have time for this."

_Why? Do you need to go?_

"I…" where **did** he have to go? It was not so much that he had forgotten as he found he didn't really have anything urgent…just blankness, like the walls, from what were once flashes of green and deep magma red.

_Look behind you, Artemis._

He didn't move. At this, the voice seemed rather puzzled. Obviously, whoever it was could see him.

_I thought you wanted to speak to something other than a wall….?_

Artemis thought back to the start of their pointless, albeit strange, conversation. He had not voiced that thought aloud. However, before he could further analyze the disturbing fact, he caught a movement in his peripheral vision. He had no choice but to turn around; slowly on the spot, to face the back wall.

It seemed that she had simply stepped from the whiteness; a girl, who seemed to be the same as himself, yet much younger. And the longer he studied her features the more she seemed…he searched for the right description…his mirror image. But…changed. It was quite disconcerting.

Her eyes were the colour of clear amber, face framed by long blond hair so light it was nearly silver. She wore a flowing dress made from some light material that reminded him of gossamer or the colour on a dragonfly's wings when it leaves the water.

And yet, she looked like him. Uncannily so.

The individual smiled, and he marveled at the enigmaty such innocent features could produce.

_Hello._

Artemis smirked. "Nice to make your acquaintance too."

_Don't be so stupid._

He raised an eyebrow. "I beg your pardon?"

_We've met before silly._

Artemis regarded her steadily. "Then I do not recall."

The girl seemed to pout.It was a strange experience; seeing yourself do an expression you've never done before

_You really don't remember? That's not very nice._

Artemis coughed awkwardly. "Be that as it may, perhaps **now** you can give me your name?"

She tilted her head to one side, eyes bright like a birds. Regarding him just a steadily, though he could see her gaze flickering. _I don't know. _A pause. Then, _I'm Zefie._

"Zefie?"

She shrugged casually. _I just made that up._

Artemis sighed. She obviously did not get the point of introducing yourself. "You name. Not one you made up."

_I was only joking. My name's Artemis._

"That's **my** name. Can you understand English?"

_There's no need to be so mean. My name is Artemis._

He looked at her in wondering exasperation. "Artemis is my name! So if you wish to conjure one, please do not use it."

_Why? Have you got the copyrights on it? It's my name too! Anyway, you're a male. Artemis is a girl's name._

It was definitely the most bizarre conversation he had ever taken part of. He passed a hand over his face, then a though suddenly occurred to him.

"Excuse me…ah, Artemis, but how old are you?"

She looked thoughtful, twirling a strand of hair between her fingers. Finally, she spoke, her feet dancing steps in small circles upon the floor. _I don't know that either…same as you?_

Artemis wasn't listening. He was looking cryptically at her lips. They hadn't moved at all when she spoke. He frowned, eyebrows contracting very slightly. A ventriloquist? It seemed rather far fetched.

_No, I am not a ventriloquist. _

Artemis gave a start. "How…"

She shook her head, her hair floating a little, like a halo around her. She looked so innocent…yet, she looked like him. _I don't have a voice. I think it's my thoughts you hear. Inside your head._

Artemis looked at her, still frowning. "Your thoughts? How is that possible?"

She shrugged again, looking about her vaguely. _Don't you ever hear voices in your head? One little voice? _Walking around him, she started to dance to some music only her ears could hear. Artemis followed her progress around the room with incredulous eyes. He would never dance himself…how degrading.

She noticed his gaze, paused, and came over. Artemis backed into a wall. She poked him hard, making him blink. _You're so mean, Arty._

Artemis glared at her, massaging his nose. This girl look like him yet acted so different. It was unnerving. "And I deserved that because?" he asked, irritated.

She gave a small giggle. When she talked, she simply smiled, her lips making no movement at all. She was always smiling. He wondered how she did that.

_Will you play with me?_

His eyebrows shot up. "Excuse me?"

She gestured daintily at the now cavernous room. It was bigger than Artemis remembered…a lot bigger. But just as white. _Play. _She tugged on the corner of his jacket. _Tag?_

Artemis stood his ground, feeling uncharacteristically hot. "No."

_Please?_

He pulled his jacket out of her hand. "For heaven's sake, if you are the same age as me, please act it." He snapped.

It came out harsher than he intended and she shrunk away from him, amber eyes wide. She looked about fourteen, yet talked and reacted as if she was barely seven. Artemis shivered inwardly. Her eyes were never still, the iris too pale a shade, as if they would become transparent any minute. Right now, they were flitting nervously about the floor.

"I'm not a…playing sort of person." He said after a moment.

She looked up. _Basketball?_

"Absolutely not. What did I just say?"

_People your age play basketball._

"So?"

_Act your age._

Artemis looked at her strangely. No one ever spoke to him like that…not in that tone. He ran a hand through his hair, and side stepped her, walking across the room towards the opposite wall. His shoes made no sound on the white washed floor, but it took an unexpected amount of time to reach it, where as it barely took him a minute to cross it earlier. It was as if the room had…grown somehow, the faint dips of shadows thinner and further away. It made him feel smaller and smaller.

He ran a finger down a pale scratch made by the red liquid.

_What do you think it is, onii-chan? _She had followed him here.

Artemis turned to look at her only to find that he had to direct his gaze downwards a few more centimeters. The sudden change of dimensions nearly made his head spin. Nearly, but not quite.

"What did you just call me?" he asked.

He knew that 'onii-chan' translated as 'elder-brother' in Japanese but it seemed rather strange to use in this case. Inappropriate. Random.

She smiled at him sweetly-he had never experienced that before, and didn't really know how to react. _Onii-chan. _

"I am not your brother." He replied coldly.

Her smiled faded a little. Her eyes were annoyingly large and imploring. _Nissan? _

"No! I do not have a sister!"

_Do you have a Father, onii-chan?_

"If you really were my sister, you'd know that. And stop calling me 'onii-chan'. I am not your brother."

She ignored him and pressed on. _Well, do you?_

"Of course I have a Father."

_Really? Then who did that?_

Following her finger, Artemis's gaze was brought to a particularly long scratch on the wall. And unlike most of the other scars beside it, this was black, rather than pale grey; as if it had gone so deeply it had unearthed the darkness beneath the endless white.

His throat had gone oddly dry.

"I don't know. It was the red substance."

_And what do you think that was, onii-chan?_

_His face stung, it stung as much as the back of his head, hurting, a pulse like the ones in his temples, pulsing, refusing to ebb away…._

"I…don't know."

_He knew now; it only took him once to realize…yet once was not good enough. Never good enough. Never! Youth was not an excuse._

_The pulse of shame in his cheeks. No tears. He knew that one well enough. It had only taken him once for that too. One was truly the loneliest number. You'll never be any different-never good enough. _

It was happening too quickly, his eyes taking in too much at once, his fingers unable to touch them all before they disappeared. He could feel her hand tight around his, as if comforting him. **Then why did she show him in the first place? Why?**

He didn't want to be who he was, not for two years, not ever. He could only watch as they cut his life away, strand by strand.

He could not move, could not react, no matter how fast he could play the keys. They did not know it hurt to watch them, to watch himself fade away. They didn't know anything. It was such unfairness that they should hold all the power.

It was all moving too fast. He hadn't been here long enough to truly know…it was just beginning, yet now it had to end.

Why?

_Disappointment. It was such a bitter word. But it was also the consent for improvement; even when that was impossible. No matter how unreasonable, it became part of his life. Soon, pleasing himself was no the point, nor his rivals. It was impressing upon that one person that he, Artemis, was worthy of his name. _

There was the sound of whimpering. Artemis looked down to find that the girl who called herself Artemis was clinging fretfully at his shirt. The top of her head now barely reached his chin.

It was all moving too fast. Why the hell couldn't they wait? _Why?_

She nudged her forehead against his chest. He felt he should do something, put an arm around her…and yet…His expression hardened as something close to disgust writhed inside him. Disgust at himself. He remained stiffly ignorant of her.

This was not supposed to happen…they can not change him, they can not! It was not logical! Too fast.

Too sentimental. What is wrong with you?

_They're going to do it, onii-chan! Why are they doing this? It hurts! It hurts!_

Artemis felt a rotating motion inside his head, it distracted him so he couldn't think. At last, he managed to choke the words out. "Don't worry. It's going to be alright."

He sounded a lot more confident that he had felt at the start of their conversation; though even as he said it, he knew it wouldn't be. There was no staircase, no door. He knew now. Strange how fate grants you wisdom when it is too late to do anything with it.

_They're going to take me away, and I haven't even played a game with you yet!_

He felt torn and for once, completely helpless. He had sworn long ago not to feel that emotion. He could do nothing.

Instead, he wrenched the shivering form away from his torso, glancing around the room. At the same time however, he felt contempt. So now she looked to him. How can one change their perspective so quickly? Was she as young as this not to know? Or did she not care? Or…

_You're not going to let them take me away, are you onii-chan? _

The room was hardly bigger than an office now. He felt he should know, it was so close, so near, so obvious. Yet so obscure.

Artemis pulled on the little girl's arm urgently, and began the search fruitlessly along the walls for an exit, anything so they could get out of this peace that was falling apart. Perhaps he could find some other. Perhaps. It was such an indefinite word.

The walls crept in closer as he blinked to rid his eyes of a dizziness that was taking hold of his mind. Nothing. **Think methodically you fool! **Nothing.

_No, Arty!_

A whirlpool of images inside him, just behind his eyes, its current ripped and shredded by rocks, fighting against the wind. Yet it was inevitably drawn downwards, like a stream is drawn towards a waterfall.

He could see the black beneath the peeling white, scratched away; the blood could stop flowing, yet the scar does not go with it.

_Artemis, they're taking me away! I don't want to go, tell them to stop! Tell them onii-chan!_

Her skin was now moon pale; everything about her seemed to literally fade before his eyes. Her's lost their clarity, suddenly amber, hazel, brown, and then blue. Her voice grew soft.

He should find him, should hold on to her, not to let her slip away, keep her alive…

_Its okay, I can't die. But I don't want to go back there!_

It was exhausting him, but it had been so short. How could he keep on like this? How?

_It's so dark, I get frightened! I don't' want to be forgotten again, not so soon!_

Artemis' breath was fast now, jumpy like a marathon runners and out of rhythm with his own heart beat. He wrenched himself free of his grasp, taking a breath of something that was not air, yet refreshing.

"Of course I won't forget you." He said in a hoarse whisper. "But I don't know who you-"

**Shame on you. Shame! Is this what you have become? How far are you preparing to go, Artemis? Just how low? **

He felt hot tears at the back of his eyes.

**Crying with emotion is a sign of weakness. A trait which taints you. Though it is a psychological release, it displays a lack of mental discipline. **

_Do you promise?_

**It is unnecessary.**

"I…"

**Are you a coward? **

_Why do you want to shut me away?_

**Are you going to fall into the morals of your conscience, Artemis?**

Even now she looked innocent. Even now she smiled. Through fear. The expression seemed to cut him to pieces. She continued to fade. Voices struck him down.

_You're going to leave me, aren't you onii-chan? You're going to let them. _

Artemis shook his head and opened his mouth. He tried to contradict her. Suddenly, he had no voice.

Later, if he could think back to this moment, guilt would answer why. Perhaps he did not try hard enough. **Perhaps you are afraid.**

He wanted to ask her who she really was, to ask what she meant by everything, to ask why the peace of this white room lasted for such a short time. To ask why she called him her brother. But he knew there was to be no answers. And soon, no question either.

He hated how he just stood there, he hated it. **It is your pride. **She reached up on tiptoe and touched his face.

_It's not your fault. _God. She was still smiling. It was becoming harder and harder to bear. Too fast, much too fast. He had miscalculated. A sudden realization that they may take more than they promised. Which they never did. Oh the naivety.

Her hair seemed to illuminate her entire face, silver as the tears in her eyes. The amber quality had faded so much it gave her a haunting look. Those eyes weren't flickering now; they were misty yet focused on his. He felt a horrible lurch in his stomach.

She was blind.

_Onii-chan?_

Her arms were outstretched, fingertips melting into the grey wall behind her. Artemis fought to speak. Fast. Too fast.

"Yes?"

Tears were flowing down her cheeks, lacing with strand of her hair. They were like light splitting through water, far away. But when you reach it, the light is still fading, taking its colours with it. Never gone, yet never there and always just beyond you. He had never thought of it as cruel before. She was smiling faintly through her tears. Was she never sad?

He was composed, the epitome of calm. Completely emotionless. **Good. You are improving at last, Artemis, at last. **A blow to the side of his arm.

"Why are you crying?"

She lifted her chin. And when she spoke, her voice was so soft he had to lean forwards despite himself to hear her words. _I'm crying for you, onii-chan._

Fast. Why? Why? Why?

He cleared his throat. "Well, there is no need for that."

She blinked once, as if she understood something he did not. _You can not cry. That is why I'm crying for-_

She stopped abruptly. Her mouth opened for the first time, yet he could hear no sound, not even in his head. _It's my thoughts you hear…._He felt despair sinking through him like some cold shroud through his hair.

He would not show emotion. He would not show weakness. They were for fools alone. **You are no fool. **He would not be childish. He would not. He would not. He would-

She reached for him and he straightened up stiffly, feeling the sensation of fear and guilt at the brush of her fingers.

Too fast.

He should have never agreed. He didn't want to be who he was. He didn't want to be Artemis anymore, borne away on a wind that kept on blowing west. Why? It was such a simple, such an infantile question. Just one. Answer me! Why?

He could have sworn she was a spirit. Her dress swept around her knees, their colours light and dim. Her tears still shone brilliant silver, the only light in the undefined darkness around them. Her hands passed through his face as she sought to embrace him.

He could find no tears of his own.

"Why do you call me brother?"

Fear. Panic. Thoughts that were not his. Artemis closed his eyes to the little girl. It felt horribly like giving up.

But he could still hear her voice, so innocent and untainted…or was it her thoughts? He couldn't quite remember; but it echoed like it first did.

_How can anyone hear you cry, if you can't hear yourself…._

_Onii-chan?_

**:i:**

**Author's Notes:** **Once again, I have a lot of notes to go with this one. However, a lot of the subtleties are too…subtle to be important anyway, so I'll try to be brief. **

**As you might (or might not) have noticed, the little girl was basically Artemis's conscience. She was the opposite of everything he was, characteristically. The white room symbolizes his mind, and his conscience, in a way. **

**This passage could be set (technically) in any time frame, but it (I hope) hints the short space of time before Artemis is mind whipped in TEC-that is the reason behind the fast paced plot. **

**At the end, there are three voices. One, Artemis as in the girl, two, Artemis in the present day, and three, the person he would become after the mind wipe.**

**I hope there wasn't too many typos, and it wasn't too vague or rushed and you liked it. **


End file.
